Don't lead me to temptation, just point the way
by silverbirch
Summary: Hermione Weasley didn't follow Quidditch, so wasn't aware the Bulgarians were on tour, let alone who the manager was - until he sent her an owl. Reviews are very welcome. Is it any good?
1. Chapter 1

'HERMIONE!! SOMEBODY'S STOLEN ALL MY SOCKS!!'

She rolled her eyes.

'SECOND DRAW DOWN, LEFT HAND SIDE'

Honestly, would he never learn? Ron came in to the kitchen a few moments later.

'Why did you move my socks?'

'Ron, they've been in that draw for the last 20 years.'

They sat down at the table and started pouring out tea, buttering toast and spreading jam. Ron looked over to Hermione, and noticed her clothes; a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

'Aren't you going in to work today?'

'No, I'm staying at home to get that report finished off in a bit of peace and quite.'

'Oh, you didn't mention it.' He reached for the newspaper.

'Yes I did. I told you yesterday. And the day before.'

'Oh. Anyway, I'd better get going.' He leant over and kissed her on the cheek. 'See you later.'

Hermione leant back in the chair, smiling and shaking her head. Honestly! The children were both off at school now, but she'd always have a baby at home whilst Ron was around.

With the breakfast things packed away, she could start work. That was the real beauty of being an empty nester, even though they weren't properly gone yet, just at Hogwarts. When she wanted to work she could stay at home. The Ministry would only contact her in an emergency, which didn't really happen in Magical Law. Ron got owls at ridiculous times of the night, or even somebody apparating on the doorstep, but drafting Laws took years. She was very unlikely to be disturbed, because wizards still hadn't got the hang of phones; most didn't realise she had one, and some could still not work out how to use them.

She worked on steadily for a couple of hours, occasionally chewing the end of her quill whilst searching for the right word, or checking a figure she was quoting. Report writing could be dull work, but she knew the proper marshalling of facts was vital. Heading off potential objections at this stage made getting the laws enacted so much easier later on.

Half way through the morning she was disturbed by a tapping at the window. Looking up she saw a tawny owl waiting patiently to be let in. Hermione opened the window and removed the letter tied to its leg, crossing back to the table to read it. The writing wasn't familiar to her.

'Dear Hermione,

Perhaps you have see we are in England now for the next match. I would like very much to invite you to lunch one day. It is many years now since we speak and I would like very much to catch up with my friend. Send back by owl and we arrange, yes?

Viktor'

Viktor? Viktor Krum! What did he mean 'we are in England now for our next match'? Picking up the Daily Prophet, she turned to the sports section, something she rarely did. There was the explanation. Bulgaria were playing a Quidditch series against the British teams, and the match against England was coming up on Saturday. Viktor had been interviewed, as he was now the manager.

Well well! Hermione leaned back in her chair, looking at his picture and drifting off in to memories. Viktor had been her date for that Yule Ball all those years ago. It had been her first 'grown up' party, she still remembered the dress robes she'd worn and how long it had taken to do her hair. She'd been so nervous, what with Viktor being a Champion, and everybody filing past them in to the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Then they had danced, and held hands, and kissed. She closed her eyes, remembering how scary that was.

It was her first kiss, and as he moved towards her she frantically tried to remember everything Lavender and Parvati had said on the subject. Those two discussed kissing so often, and in such depth, she would have thought they were taking an OWL in it. Was she meant to close her eyes, or keep them open? What about tongues? Euch! No way. Wasn't she supposed to be stoking his neck? Oh God, was it with all her hand, or just the fingers? She couldn't remember.

Honestly! It had all been so innocent at the time, but your first kiss is your first kiss, so still special. Then she'd had that row with Ron afterwards. Had he been jealous? No, surely not. But then again ….. The last time she'd seen Viktor was at Bill and Fleur's wedding. That seemed like a lifetime ago, the 'last golden day of peace' as Harry had called it, before they went hunting horocruxes.

She looked back down at his picture. He hadn't changed that much. Well, maybe a little fatter in the face, but still with that dark hair and stern expression. She knew it was partly an act, and underneath it all he had actually been quite sensitive, almost shy.

She picked up a piece of parchment.

'Dear Viktor,

How wonderful to hear from you again. I would love to have lunch with you one day. I can make any day this week, let me know where to meet you. I am sure we have lots of news to talk about; it has been too long since we last met. Do you remember that day?

Fondest Regards,

Hermione'

Lunch was arranged for a couple of day's time, and Hermione woke every morning with butterflies in her stomach. She couldn't work out why.

On the day of her lunch date – no, appointment – she could hardly eat breakfast. Ron looked across.

'Working at home again? Alright for some.'

'It's not just a doss, you know. It's proper work. I'll be flat out all day' (Couldn't I have phrased that better?)

'Hmmph. I bet. I'll see you later – skiver!'

Hermione sat there for a moment when he'd gone. Why hadn't she told him what her real plans were? After all, they were an old married couple now. It's not as if Viktor was…he was just an old friend, they were meeting for lunch. That's all. But Ron had always had a bit of a blind spot when it came to Viktor. It was probably easier to keep quiet. "Least said, soonest mended", that was a good saying.

She crossed to the mirror, peering intently in to it. Her face was just a little…broader than it used to be, and perhaps her cheeks not quite so firm. Then there were the wrinkles around her eyes. How horrified she'd been when she first saw them.

'They're laughter lines' she'd said to Ron. 'My dear, NOTHING is that funny' was his reply. So she'd poked his belly and said 'Well, that's fairly hilarious'. Then he'd tickled her and they ended up rolling around on the carpet until she leapt on top of him and started kissing. Rose had giggled and blushed, and Hugo read his book very intently. Parents didn't do that sort of thing. After all, parents didn't even know about….you-know-what, did they?

She smiled, and the 'laughter lines' showed up even more. She looked down at her body a little sadly. 'Oh dear, it's all heading south for the winter'. She very much doubted she could fit into those first dress robes any more. Hermione walked upstairs, wondering what she should wear today. A dress, certainly, she couldn't go in a pair of old jeans. With tights or stockings? Get a grip, girl – tights. And simple underwear. Maybe big knickers, just to keep it under control a bit. After all, who's going to see them? Make-up, of course. Well, that's allowed. I'm going to meet somebody for lunch; I'm not just popping down to the shops. Should I do something with my hair? Well, just tidy it up a little, I suppose.

Shortly before half past twelve she was ready to leave the house. She took a final look in the mirror.

'Not bad for an old married lady, I suppose'.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione apparated to an alley near the hotel they had arranged to meet at. It was the one the team were staying in. Viktor had told to her to use a side entrance that would be free of any reporters. He was just inside the door, ready to greet her.

"Hermi-own-ninny!!'

'Viktor!! How lovely to see you again.'

They joined hands, and he kissed her on each cheek in the continental fashion.

He took a step back and looked at her, smiling broadly.

'You have changed not at all' he said. 'Pah' she replied 'I'm 25 years older for a start, and several dress sizes larger.'

He laughed, and then took her by the arm. 'I have a private dining room. I think will be better private. We do not want reporter coming out of soup!'

They moved to a small, tastefully furnished room containing a table beautifully laid for lunch, all silver and cut glass. He poured the wine, and they toasted each other as they sat down for the starter.

It soon became apparent that things were not going well after such a promising start. They had run out of small talk and the silences between them were growing. Viktor seemed to have something on his mind. He was having trouble looking at her. Hermione was starting to get a little frantic, wondering how quickly the meal could be over so she could escape.

'Viktor, what's the matter? Would you prefer it if I leave?'

He stared at his plate, crumbling a piece of bread.

'No, Hermi-own-ninny, I do not want you leave. I want see you today so I can say to you… say…that I sorry.'

'Sorry? Why? Viktor, please tell me what is wrong.'

'Hermi-own-ninny….you remember Yule Ball at Hogwarts? I want apologise for kiss you'.

'Apologise? Why? There's no need for that. I was not upset, I had a lovely evening. Why do you want to apologise?'

He was still looking down, but now blushing.

'I think it was not very good kiss. I…I have never kiss girl before….' However he was going to finish the sentence was lost as Hermione burst out laughing.

'Oh, Viktor!! I can't believe you want to apologise for that after all these years! Was it really your first ever kiss?'

He still looked uncomfortable. 'My father was very strict man. I not allowed see girl. Must practice Quidditch all, all time. When I kiss you, I know not how properly. I think what other boys say how girl is kiss '

Hermione now had her napkin in her mouth to stop herself laughing. 'Oh, Viktor!! I should probably say sorry as well then. It was my first kiss, too. I thought you had kissed lots of girls. I was terrified!! I didn't have a clue how to do it properly.'

That broke the ice between them and they had a wonderful afternoon; talking and talking and talking. They spoke about their time at Hogwarts, remembering sadly the death of Cedric, and drank a toast to him. That led on to the fight against Voldemort. Viktor knew she had fought. Hermione gave a small account of that time; it was part of her life she tried to put behind her. Viktor sensed her reluctance, so moved on to a happier topic; Bill and Fleur's wedding, when they had last met.

'The boy with red hair, you dance with him. Harry say you are with him that day, as girlfriend. You see him still?'

'Yes, I do see Ron, very regularly.' Viktor cocked an eyebrow at her. 'We got married! We have two children, a girl and a boy now both at Hogwarts. And what about you? Are you married?'

'Of course. I meet girl in Bulgaria. We marry long time. I have three sons, good boys. The oldest, he is very good Quidditch player. I say you, but not him, he is better than me. One day he fly for Bulgaria. I will be manager. Then he must do what I tell him, not like at home!!'

They both laughed, and sat back in their chairs, relaxed now and enjoying each other's company. Family tales filled the time. Both had pictures with them of their children, and these were dutifully looked at, and nice things said.

'You happy with Ron, Hermi-own-ninny? It is good marriage?'

She smiled, and took a sip of wine. 'Yes, I am happy…well, contented. We've been married a long time and we're comfortable with each other now. We have a quiet, peaceful life together and that's good after what has happened to us.' She paused, and then started talking almost to her self. 'Of course, it isn't as exciting as it was when we first got together, but would I want it to be? It's different now, we're still good friends, and we're used to each other. He's like an old comfortable cardigan you could never throw away.' She roused herself suddenly, realising what she had said. 'What about you? Are you happy?'

'I am like you. Married many years. When first we marry, it is very good time. We have good…we are young and in love. Now, it is like you. We grow old together. It is different, yes?'

Hermione glanced at her watch, and jumped up.

'Gracious!! Viktor!! It is almost 5 o'clock. Where has the time gone? I need to get home. Oh, it's been wonderful seeing you again. I've enjoyed this afternoon so much.'

'I have enjoy also. We must not wait again for so long.'

They stood holding hands, looking at each other.

'Will you write to me Viktor? We should keep in contact. Will your wife mind?'

'No, she not mind. But Ron? I think he not like me, he jealous.'

'Oh, that was years ago!! Of course he won't mind at all. (Will he?) He was always a great fan of yours. Now, I must go. I really must go. Now. I must.'

She was still holding his hands, looking in to his eyes, moving closer to him without realising.

'I'm much better at kissing now,' she whispered, 'I've had practice.'

Their lips met. This time, she knew to close her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione apparated straight home, knowing she didn't have long before Ron would be back.

'Damn, damn, damn, damn. Oh God, why did I have to do that?' She rushed up the stairs and took off her dress, pulling on jeans and a sweatshirt. 'Damn, damn. How can I have been so stupid?' She grabbed at a pile of cotton pads and began to frantically wipe off the make-up. 'Damn, damn. What am I going to do?'

'Firstly, you're going to calm down. It was a good afternoon; you'd had a glass or two of wine. He's special to you. Ok, so you lied to your husband. He thought you were at home working. WORKING!! Damn, damn.'

She rushed down the stairs and scattered parchments rapidly over the table. 'Damn, damn, now I'm all red and sweaty. Oh God. Please just be a little late tonight. Go for a beer or something.' Ron's hand on the clock moved to "Travelling". 'Damn, damn.'

'Hi honey, I'm home. Mmm, that smells good!!' It was his usual greeting; he got it from watching some old American comedy programme. Ron still thought television was amazing.

'Dinner!! Damn, damn.' She put her face in her hands. 'Calm down, for God's sake.'

'I'm in here.' She tried to make her voice as normal as possible, but it sounded horribly squeaky for some reason. 'I hadn't realised the time. I'll get dinner started.'

'Great, I'm starving. What are we having?'

'Goulash'

'Goulash?'

'It's a stew, from Bulgaria…no, not Bulgaria, Hungaria…Hungary. Not Bulgaria at all, nowhere near it.'

'Talking of Bulgarians,' Hermione stiffened instinctively. Did he know? How did he know? Who'd told him? How had he found out? Oh God. 'They're on tour over here, playing England on Saturday. I tried to get tickets but it's sold out. You'll never guess who's managing them now. Your old boyfriend. Yep, old Vicky himself!'

She let out the breath she didn't even realise she was holding.

'He's not my boyfriend. He never was. We went to one dance together, that's all. He isn't, he never was. How could you think he was? We were just friends, that's all. My boyfriend? Pah! Who'd think that?' Stop gabbling Hermione. Damn, damn.

'Ok love, calm down. So you weren't. I believe you, thousands wouldn't.' Ron wasn't quite sure what he'd done wrong. 'Fancy a glass of wine, or have you had one already? You're a bit red.'

'It's the heat from the cooker.'

'I doubt it; you haven't turned it on yet.'

Damn, damn.

-o0o-

She calmed down a little over dinner, trying to keep the conversation on very neutral, boring things. How was work? My report is really boring. Stayed in all day, didn't see a soul. That kind of thing. Things that couples who've been married for years talk about. Not people who've just cheated on their husband.

After dinner, they settled down on the sofa, Ron watching the television. It was a programme Hermione wasn't interested in, which was good because it gave her time to think.

'Ok, so I was silly. I know that, I'll admit it. It was stupid, but it was just one little incident. I've been married for twenty years, and that's the first time ever. I'm allowed one mistake, aren't I? Viktor's going back to Bulgaria soon, and I'll probably never see him again. It was just a silly little fling, me forgetting my age, that's all. Ok, I enjoyed it. Of course I did. It was much better than the first one. It was different, that's all.'

'Ron's a good husband, and a fantastic father, and my friend. I'd be stupid to throw this all away.' Her hand moved automatically to the scar on her throat. 'I nearly lost him once. He's what kept me going then, whilst she was hurting me. I was the thought of never seeing Ron again that made me hold on. I didn't think about Viktor then, it was Ron. It's always been Ron.'

She suddenly turned and kissed him ferociously. It was the sort of kiss she hadn't given him for years.

'Wow!! What was that for?'

She snuggled down in to his arm.

'For being the best comfy old cardigan I've ever had.'

'I suppose I'd better take that as a compliment.'

-o0o-

"That time" as she called it quickly became a pleasant memory, one of those that every attractive woman has tucked away. Just occasionally her fingers lightly traced across her lips, and she smiled secretly to herself. Yes, a nice memory. She wasn't just a middle aged wife and mother, she was a woman a man wanted to kiss. It was an ego boost. Then he wrote to her again.

'Dear Hermione,

I am in London one day more tomorrow. Please, I want see you again. We need talk, I think, before I return to Bulgaria.

Viktor'

Hermione paced the kitchen, chewing at her nails. Should she go? How could she? OK, let's look at this logically. First, I'm a grown woman, not a silly little girl. Second, he's going back to Bulgaria and I'll probably never see him again. He wants to talk, probably to clear the air. Third, if I want to keep him as a friend, I can't let in end like this.

Is that all? Is that why I want to see him? Just to clear the air? What if something else happens? What if I get carried away again? Poor Ron, think of him. He's important, not Viktor. I made a mistake, and now I have to pay for it. I can't see him again. I'll just write and say I'm busy, so I can't make it. Yes, that's best.

It is said you learn something new every day. That day, Hermione learnt that once an owl has been sent it cannot be accio'd back. The letter tied to its leg was very short.

'12:30? At the same place?'

-o0o-

Hermione could hardly bring herself to eat breakfast. She was edgy, and feeling slightly sick. Why wouldn't Ron hurry up and go to work? How long did it take to eat a piece of toast?

Once he had left, she spent a long time in the shower, trying to calm herself down.

'This is just so silly; I'm working myself in to a state for nothing. I'll meet him, apologise, say I have an urgent meeting and go. That would be best all round.'

Deep down, she knew it would never work. That wasn't a dress she would wear to the Ministry, and she spent a long time getting her hair just right. It would be the last time they met, she knew that. She wanted this last memory to be a good one.

They met at the same entrance. This time, there was no greeting, no cheek kisses. Viktor motioned her to the room they had used before. He did not take her arm. The table was laid, as previously, the starter already on the table. They ate in silence for a moment.

'Hermi-own-ninny' 'Viktor' They had spoken at the same time. With a small hand movement, she gestured that he should speak first.

'Hermi-own-ninny, the last time we meet, we kiss. I think maybe it was mistake. But then I think maybe not mistake. I think you want kiss me, and I want kiss you.'

Her eyes flew open. Had she given herself away so completely? 'Viktor, I think I should..'

'Please' he stopped her with a motion of his hand 'I have to say this. You are my first girlfriend, my first kiss. I think I am always little in love with you.'

He was right of course, she knew that. You always stay a little bit in love with your first love, no matter what happens. She felt the room getting smaller. She knew what must happen next. She has always known what would happen next. Known? Suspected? Hoped? Did it make a difference what word she chose?

'Hermi-own-ninny, I must say this to you. I leave for my home tomorrow. Maybe I never see you again. I have room here. Will you come to room with me?'

She looked down at the table. The weave on the cloth suddenly became very clear to her. It expanded until it filled her mind. She now had only two choices. She could go with him, or she could just go.

She also knew, with perfect clarity, that which ever she chose to do, she would regret it for the rest of her life.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione travelled back on the train. She could have apparated of course, but this was slower. It gave her time to think before she got home.

Home! A word that should mean security, warmth, comfort. What did it mean mow? Part of her said it now meant the same as Azkaban, a prison. A prison she would spend the rest of her life in, being a wife and a mother. One day she would be a grandmother in that home. She had seen a glimpse of another world, a world that did not revolve around home. A world that was greener and fresher, or was it? Was it simply a world without security?

Had she made the right choice? As she had thought back then in the dining room, she hadn't. Well, she had. What was done was now done, and she could never turn back the clock. She must live with her decision.

She leant her head against the glass of the carriage window. It felt cool against her forehead.

A tear rolled unnoticed down her cheek.

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Did you really think I was going to spill the beans? So, did she or didn't she?

Hermione did exactly what you or I would have done in the same position.

So, what did you think? Good, bad or indifferent, I'd like your reviews!!


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